Merlin the Companion
by E. V. Briar
Summary: [Arthur/Merlin M/M Romance] Concubine!Merlin & Owner!Arthur - Merlin enters into training as a reward for saving Prince Arthur's life - but still has to protect the Prince, and can't be touched by anyone except his would-be owner. [Slow burn series. Kinkmeme fill. Rated M for explicit content.]


"You saved my son," the King had said. Merlin could still feel the crowd's eyes on him hours later. "You will be rewarded." Uther Pendragon's had grasped a slender shoulder and he looked upon the crowd, proudly exclaiming: "You shall be taken under Lady Ife's teaching." The feast attenders had then applauded. Merlin was dumbfounded. Who was Lady Ife? he wondered. He would soon find out.

He had been able to feast at a table far from the King and the Prince. Merlin had never had such food: tender ribs dripping with fat; pies of beef and tender apples; sweet, sticky breads flavored with lemon, orange, and honey, and other savory ones with onions and garlic; candied almonds; blackberry and sweet red wines. He ate his fill and drank until his head swam, all the while wondering: Who was Lady Ife, and why was it such an honor to be taught by her? He dared not ask those he sat with; they seemed to know little more than he, all of them high servants of Uther. When he would look up at the Prince, he would see Arthur staring at him - not with disdain, as he had before, but almost with nervousness. Blue eyes would dart away when their gazes met, yet they would always come back before Merlin glanced up again. This made him wonder all the more: Who was Lady Ife, and should he be afraid of her, as Arthur seemed to now be of him? It brought him no comfort; before he would've overjoyed seeing Arthur nervous, but now it made Merlin nervous, too.

The feast ended and Merlin only dared stand when the servants at his table stood, before afraid that he'd offend the King if he excused himself too soon. Sleepily he dragged his feet all the way to Gaius's door, dreaming already of the bed he had inside. When he slipped in, Gaius looked up from his book with a brow raised.

"What are you doing here?"

"I live here," Merlin said, again dumbfounded.

Gaius stood up from his bench and lifted a bag. Merlin's bag - the one that had brought his things here. It was again full of them. "You were awarded a new position, Merlin," Gaius explained, picking up quickly on his confusion. "You are to be taught by Lady Ife, and now you have a bed under her roof."

The color that the wine had left in his face drained. "Who is Lady Ife?" he asked as Gaius handed over the bag and a hesitant hand took it.

"A very respected woman," Gaius explained. "Very educated, and experienced in all aspects of life. I would dare not challenge her to a game of wit, Merlin." That was a warning. "She teaches, now - all she knows. I packed all your things - put the book I gave you in there, too. Keep it hidden."

Yet he had not told him what she knew. "What will I learn?"

"Mathematics, literature, history. I hear she rivals all the cooks in the kingdom, too. And there are other things she will teach you, in time, I'm sure."

There was something Gaius wasn't telling him, but he gave him no time to ask as an elderly hand led him out the door. "She lives just outside the castle, inside the walls. A building of marble with a violet roof. No doubt you've seen it?"

"Yes, but-" What else will she teach me?

Gaius interrupted, "Find it, and tell her who you are. She'll have heard of you by now. I hear her beds are covered with furs and wool - far better than the straw you've been sleeping on here. Please, Merlin, you don't want to keep her waiting. It is a great honor."

Merlin wanted nothing more than to sleep, whether on wool or hay. He didn't want to walk any more, or meet anyone else, or do anything at all. He wanted to sleep off the wine until noon. He was given no such luxury, so he shouldered his bag and began to drag his feet once more. He walked over the wooden floors outside Gaius's home, along the tiles of the hallways, across the stone of the road. The night air seemed to sober him up some, and he took his share of deep breaths. When Merlin looked up from the path, he saw a grand building of off-white marble, with a dark violet clay roof that seemed to blend with the sky. Upon the walls were carvings of women and men alike dancing gracefully with flowers all around, and plants of all colours rimmed the ground around Merlin's feet. He had never seen it so close before. It was beautiful.

The wooden door opened and Merlin looked, frightening a young girl whose hair was the color of fire and had freckles covering a beautiful face. She flinched with a bucket in her hands, but luckily it was empty.

"Sorry," Merlin greeted immediately, lest she think him some kind of deviant. "I'm here to see… Lady Ife?"

A freckled hand came to a freckled chest to calm her pounding heart, no doubt. "Oh," she huffed sweetly, continuing on to reveal a thick accent of some eastern land. "What is your business with the Lady?"

"I'm…," he started, not quite sure how to finish, "…well, King Uther granted me her patronage tonight - at the feast."

"Ooh." Her smile was bright and contagious. "You must be Merlin." She glanced down at the bucket in her arms. "I'm to get water from the well. Would you walk with me? I must introduce you to the Lady but she needs her water first."

He shifted the bag on his shoulder. "Alright," he nodded, and she led the way. The dress she wore was green and gold, and so clean it looked like she'd just put it on. It clung to her so much so that Merlin's eyes were back on the ground, feeling otherwise shameful if he dared watch her walk. "Who," he began to ask, "exactly, is Lady Ife?"

She looked back with her large eyes even larger with shock. "A creature of Camelot who's never heard of the Good Lady?"

Merlin doubted 'creature' was an insult, so he smiled. "No. I've only just got here. Lived in a small village… no Ladies or Lords around."

"She's the most beautiful lass - oh, don't tell her I called her a lass, please - and she knows everything about everything. She's generous and sweet, and she can talk a merchant into buying his own goods. She treats us like family, she does." The girl rambled on as she lowered the bucket into the marbled well (it, too, had a violet roof) and pulled up clear water.

"'Us'?"

"All of us who learn from her," explained the girl. "Most of us are sent to her from Madames. Once in a great while she'll pick someone herself. Sometimes a King or someone of the like will send someone her way," she eyed Merlin now as she walked beside him, "but she's still got to approve of you."

Merlin was now as worried as ever: Madames, approval? What would happen to him if he wasn't up to Lady Ife's standards?

"I'm Moira, if it pleases you," the red-haired girl gave a name, and so Merlin answered with his own.

He followed her back to the marble building and entered behind her. It was even more beautiful on the inside: marble walls dotted with paintings and wooden floors without marks; potted plants on every shelf and in every corner; flowing silk curtains; bookshelves full with pristine book spines; and in the heart of it all was a grand fireplace, with pillows and furs all around (and three people similarly dressed to Moira warming themselves silently).

"This way," Moira urged him along and he pulled his eyes away to follow her again. They walked down a hallway with evenly spaced single doors, the very end having double made of some dark wood that made the marble look all the more bright. Moira knocked softly, received some noise Merlin could not make out, then opened it. "Good Lady," she greeted. "Merlin has arrived, and I've gotten your water."

"Thank you, child. Send him in." The voice was high and sweet, thick with an accent Merlin had never heard before. A freckled hand led him by the back into the room, and then the door was closed.

This room was as beautiful as the rest of the building but felt far cozier. A fire burned dimly and made everything a flickering dark orange - the canopied bed, the furs all over the floor and walls, the table set with tea and more candles than Merlin had fingers. At the hearth stood a tall woman with a yellow silk scarf around her head (it matched her flowing dress, as if cut from the same cloth) and skin as dark as night. He stared.

"Hello Merlin," she greeted without taking her gaze away from the fire.

Nervously he adjusted the knapsack on his shoulder. "Lady Ife?"

"So I stand," she confirmed eloquently. "Come here, let me look at you." Finally she turned her head to him, revealing round eyes and full, red-painted lips. She offered a hand to him, but he did not know what to do with it. She beckoned, so Merlin came closer. She grasped his wrist with a feather-light touch and did not look him over, as he expected, but stared instead at his eyes. He avoided her gaze for as long as he could but when his gaze finally met hers, he stared, too.

Finally she said, "You'll do. You are a beautiful being, Merlin," and he knew she meant deeper than his skin.


End file.
